The Best Advice
by TheSpottedPen
Summary: Kurt gives Sam some advice on how to win Quinn back, but things don't go quite as planned...written for Kummer Summer Exchange.
1. Sam's Superbowl Shuffle

_**Note:** OK. So this has been a long time in the making and it still isn't complete, but I'm starting to put it up because I can't take it anymore. This was written for the Kummer Summer Exchange for (I think) Chasing Aspirations, and based on this prompt:_

You know what your problem is? Girls... (Kurt gives Sam some advice when he confides in Kurt about his problems with Quinn (post-Superbowl Episode) What he doesn't realise is Sam takes some of his advice quite literally- preferably with confused!Sam and oblivious!Kurt... and Hevans at the end of course :D).

_Thanks to matchbookjealousy and hoglee for beta-ing, and please enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Sam's Superbowl Shuffle.<strong>

She wasn't looking at him. Like, really wasn't looking at him. She was sitting up in the stands, clapping and cheering like everyone else this afternoon at McKinley's victory celebration, a bright smile on her face and in her eyes and none of it was for him. And as Sam ran around the field, hyping up the crowd, he frowned a bit. Those eyes hadn't sparkled like that for him since...whatever. Sam shook it off and gave a loud whoop to stop himself from following Quinn's line of sight. He already had an idea where it would be, anyway, and he wasn't ready to confirm it.

It just was not fair. He'd been here all this time, and he was still the new kid. Still playing second fiddle to Finn Hudson, of all people. Sam widened his mouth - he hoped it looked like a smile. Quinn had really helped him these past few months -he'd only slipped into Na'vi a few times, and he stopped quoting his favorite movies. He'd even buried his comic book stash in the basement. He'd contemplated throwing it away, but when he'd packed them in the boxes he just found himself flipping through some of his favorites. No, he couldn't throw them away.

But he was getting cooler, and now he was truly a Titan at McKinley. Just not the biggest one - and that was what he deserved, to be the biggest one. Was Finn dating the head cheerleader? Well, the most popular girl in school? Sam pumped his fists in the air hard. Did Finn spend time preparing lemon juice for his hair? He knew that Finn didn't pump iron like he did. Sam turned to center field - to the undeserving quarterback himself. Finn was waving, beaming at the crowd. Sam noticed that his eyes didn't seem to move very much. Sam turned back to the stands. Probably looking at his mom or something.

Now they were all at center field in a line. Figgins was talking and Coach Beiste looked really proud of them all. Yet it was Finn's shoulder that the Beiste clapped. Sam rolled his and lifted his chin. This was about the team right now. When it was all over, Quinn would trip down from the stands into his arms. And that was what happened, except she was only there for a second before she pulled back.

"You're amazing," she said. Her eyes don't, but Sam gave her a little smile anyway.

"You're not so bad yourself," Sam replied, tipping his imaginary cowboy hat._ Oh. Crap._

Quinn blinked. She looked away and her lips pulled into a tight line. It didn't last too long,though. He felt relieved when he saw a real smile blooming on her face. But she wasn't looking at him. He stared at her. _One, two..._He got to twenty seconds.

"So, meet me at my car?"

Quinn nodded and turned her whole body away. Sam didn't watch her walk. He ran up behind Artie's chair and reared him up.

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><p>Football. Not Kurt's thing - certainly not something he would usually skip class for, especially since he took Carole and Burt's monetary sacrifice very seriously. But they both seemed perfectly fine with him cutting out of his classes a little early to make McKinley's victory rally. Plus, Blaine was more than willing to join him - and Kurt was not one to dismiss the opportunity to go on a mini-date. So he primped and worked hard to make it look like he hadn't primped at all, and was properly rewarded when Blaine hopped into his car. The handsome warbler looked him up and down, nodding.<p>

"Nice scarf. Is that a canary pin?"

"It is." Kurt fluttered his eyelashes and leaned into Blaine. "Inspired by our very own Pavarotti. Am I ready for _Vogue_?"

Blaine chuckled and shook his head, and Kurt's heart filled with joy. "Don't we have a rally to get to?"

Kurt threw his hand against Blaine's forearm and giggled before starting up the car. So here they were, watching Finn receive some award - he recalled Blaine saying something about an MVP, whatever that was. Most Vivacious Performance, maybe? Kurt just clapped. It didn't matter.

"Yeah, Finn!" Kurt turned to Blaine in the stands. "You're quite the hero, Blaine."

"Me? I just gave Rachel and Mercedes the idea. They orchestrated everything themselves. Major kudos to your brother and the ladies."

"You're so modest," Kurt sighed. _It's one of the many reasons why you're so perfect and I love you._

Blaine threw his hands up, and looked down. It was not fair, how hard Kurt's heart beat for this boy. In fact, he threw his own hand up to it, wondering if Blaine might be deaf. How could he not hear the damn thing? Kurt bit his bottom lip and fought the urge to swoon. He did have some dignity left.

The whole ceremony was over now. Blaine turned to Burt and Carole, and of course he and Burt started talking about the game as if they hadn't already gone over every single thing that happened that night. Kurt was ecstatic about his father bonding with his future boyfriend, but he couldn't help the frown that marred his face. He stood patiently by, but when he noticed that it wasn't going to end any time soon he just rolled his eyes and went to join Carole on the field to congratulate Finn. Or at least that's what he was going to do. He was distracted by thoughts of Blaine sitting down to dinner at his side, his official boyfriend and was irritated (and maybe a little embarrassed) when he bumped into some buffoon with a bad dye job. Wait -_a bad dye job..._

"Sam!"

Sam took his time turning his head to nod at Kurt. "Hey."

Kurt smiled at him, at a loss. He liked Sam, had seen him around the house sometimes hanging with Finn and Puck, but he hadn't really talked to him since the duet competition. Sam shifted his weight from one leg to the other in the silence, and was about to turn his head again when it occurred to Kurt what he might say.

"Congratulations! This must be very exciting for you. The win, I mean."

Sam blinked at him."Yeah, pretty nice."

Kurt didn't take offense at the distracted affirmative. Sam's head was already swiveling in the other direction, and Kurt looked back at Blaine. Still babbling with his father. It touched him, it really did, but he couldn't help but wonder about his father's denseness. Could he not see that he was taking up precious alone time? Kurt sighed dramatically and looked across the field to Finn. Carole had one arm wrapped around his waist, and she was beaming. At Quinn, who was standing on Finn's other side with one hand against his bicep. Another sigh overtook him. Standing there like that they made the picture perfect couple - Finn in his quarterback uniform, and Quinn looking nothing less than like a mini-modern Grace Kelly, curse her. Kurt tilted his head to the side a bit and wondered who he and Blaine might be. Because naturally they would also be a picture perfect couple. Blaine was definitely a Cary Grant. Could Kurt be Kathryn Hepburn? He preferred Audrey...

A strong hand gripping his elbow jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, you live with Finn, right?"

Kurt curled his elbow away from Sam's touch. "Yes. That's what generally happens when two families become one. They move in together."

Sam frowned at him. "You haven't been seeing Quinn around or anything like that, have you?"

Kurt shook his head, taking in Sam's drilling stare. Was that..._desperation_ he saw in there?

"No," he said slowly.

He tried to give Sam a reassuring look. Sam looked back at them again and sighed. Kurt still talked to Mercedes and Tina, so he knew quite a bit about what was going on in McKinley's halls, but Finn wasn't exactly a chatterbox himself and there were even limits to Mercedes' and Tina's reach. He arched a brow at Sam. "Why? Do you wanna talk about it?"

Sam immediately snapped back to Kurt and rolled his shoulders.

"Quinn's never been a real big talker, but she barely talks to me now," Sam blurted. "It's like she's not even listening. And she smiles at her cellphone a lot. I know she's getting secret texts, but it's her phone, you know? She doesn't smile at me." Sam paused. "Well, she does smile at me, but not with her eyes."

Kurt was entirely sympathetic, but he kind of wanted to laugh. Sam looked so put out, almost...pouty. It was adorable, and this was some delicious (if somewhat tragic) dish.

"I hate to say this, but you're kind of lucky that's all you've got wrong with Quinn Fabray."

Okay, so Sam was not amused by a perfectly fair assessment of his girlfriend. Kurt put a hand on Sam's shoulder and thought about how to explain it to him.

"Look at her, Sam. Really look at her." Sam squinted and did not take his eyes off of his girlfriend. Kurt blinked at him, but continued. "She's the most popular girl in school, and she wants things to stay that way. And popularity is practically the only reason people our age get up in the morning and travel to the desolate landscape that is public school." He could see that he was speaking Sam's language now. "Practically royalty," Kurt emphasized.

"Royalty?"

"She works tirelessly to appease the masses, only letting her guard down around you, the royal consort." Kurt sighed at the romantic image he'd created. "And what have you done for her lately, Sam?" Only written her a love song, taken her to Breadsticks and spontaneously taken her to see an awesome Christian rock group that he'd known she'd like. Was that not enough?

Kurt made a face. "I see. You need to treat Quinn like a queen, Sam."

Treat her like a queen. Kurt had continued talking, but Sam stopped listening to him after that. He knew what it meant, and he is convinced that that's what he'd been doing- at least by his dad's standards. But...not Quinn's? Sam lowered his head until another thought occurred to him. Maybe Kurt meant like a real queen. Well, Sam could do that. He'd watched all 6 Star Wars movies and been dragged to quite a few renaissance fairs. He thought he could handle the basics.

* * *

><p>The next morning when Quinn stepped into McKinley, Sam held open the door, took a deep breath and announced, "Her royal majesty, Queen Quinn Fabray of McKinley!"<p>

A few students jumped, and more than one threw him strange looks - including the queen herself.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Sam's smile faltered a bit at her tone, but nevertheless he bowed at the waist and touched his lips to her hand. Quinn watched all of this with suspicion.

"Nothing, my liege lady."

"O-kay." She put her arm through his and allowed him to escort her down the halls. Sam walked proud and tall beside her, acting every bit the lovestruck knight (or at least he hoped he was). It had always looked a little dopey at the fairs, but it was actually kind of fun.

"Look, Brittany," Santana said as they passed her in the hall, "it's the mother of the year and her future baby-daddy, the joker."

Sam whirled around and drew his handily-crafted cardboard sword on Santana, jostling his ladyship in the process.

"Watch- no, keep thy tongue, wench!"

Santana glared down at the offending sword before crushing it with her hand. Sam really liked his sword!

"I don't know who you think you're calling wench, blondie, but your little fake sword is not going to stop me from giving you a real beat down. So I suggest you move like the lizard queen afores you find yourself on the floor."

Sam dropped his hand and belatedly turned to his side. Quinn was far down the hall, turning into her first period class. She stopped at the door to look back at him and shake her head before going in, and Sam had a feeling that "treating her like a queen" maybe hadn't worked. Then he turned back to Santana- who had completely ruined his sword blade and was crossing her arms - and gulped. He didn't doubt that Santana would floor him, she was that scary. So he hightailed it to his own first period to wallow in his failure.


	2. Sam's Silly Love Songs

**Sam's Silly Love Songs.**

Lonely hearts did not have to be unhappy ones, or so Kurt was learning. He was actually sublimely happy by Blaine's side, laughing and content that their time would come. Now that Blaine knew how he felt, it was only a matter of time before nature brought about the inevitable.

"I just noticed, these decorations are all red." Blaine looked at Kurt. "No room for pink or white?"

"There is nothing worse about Valentine's Day than the color scheme."

They shared a smile and Kurt felt them take one step closer to their destiny together...

"Cool dinner." Kurt turned to see Sam, hands jammed into his hoodie.

"Thank you! And thanks for coming." Then he frowned. "But this was for lonely hearts. I thought your heart was partnered."

Sam's face flushed and he shrugged. He opened his mouth, but just as he would have spoken, Blaine did.

"Who is this?" Blaine beamed at Sam, and Kurt widened his eyes at the warbler. That one step inched back in his mind. He waved in Sam's general direction as Sam looked at Blaine with polite curiosity in his eyes.

"Blaine, this is Sam. Sam, Blaine."

The two boys shook hands, and Blaine seemed to hold onto Sam's hand just a little longer than necessary.

"Straight!" Kurt blurted, plastering a small smile on his face as both boys gave him a funny look.

"_Straight_ Sam," Kurt emphasized. "_Gay_ Blaine." They were still giving him those looks. Was his jealousy showing?

Blaine recovered first and nodded. "Nice to meet you, Sam, sexuality not withstanding."

Sam nodded back.

Kurt tried to catch Sam's eye. He tilted his head and pretended to play with his hair, all the while pointing his finger away from him and Blaine. Maybe Sam didn't know anything about Singin' in the Rain, but surely even someone like him would get the hint to leave. But Sam just plopped a hand on Kurt's shoulder, making Kurt jump.

"Look, can I-" Sam sighed. "Can we talk, dude?"

Kurt felt a headache coming on. He had already planned to stay at Blaine's side for the entire evening, perhaps persuade the delicious warbler to come to his house for a romantic viewing of When Harry Met Sally or Sleepless in Seattle. He opened his mouth to kindly - but firmly- refuse, but one real look at Sam's face pierced Kurt with guilt. The corners of his mouth were turned down, drooping like unbecomingly pale cheeks and poorly treated hair...

Kurt sighed in his head. _I should be next in line for sainthood_. When he turned to Blaine, he amended that thought. _Martyrdom_.

"Be back soon. Friendship calls."

"Completely understand," said Blaine.

Kurt saw admiration in his eyes and preened. Perhaps this intrusion wasn't in vain.

Kurt joined Sam at his table, and didn't even think about Blaine as Sam told him the most absurd tale of desperation he'd ever heard. Sam's tone was forlorn, but as he regaled Kurt with his exploits Kurt could not help first blinking in disbelief, then graciously holding back his laughter. And he was doing so well, too, until Santana appeared. Then, he let out a full snort that he tried to cover with his hand.

Sam had been pouting at his chocolate cake as he spoke, but when Kurt snorted he looked up. His cheeks were ruddy with embarrassment, but he was watching Kurt closely as he continued. Another snort escaped, and Sam's mouth twitched as his story ended. He was still watching Kurt, and Kurt bit his bottom lip to stop the wave of laughter inside of him. He thought he had control of himself as he spoke.

"Sam, I'm-" A giggle erupted, was quickly supressed. He tried again. "No, really-" A small expulsion of breath from his nostrils almost broke the dam of resistance. With each would-be expression of sympathy, Sam's lips curled until a crooked smile graced his bright pink face. Kurt let his laughter free.

"Can I be honest here? That was the craziest thing I've ever heard. A real queen? Sam, even the queen mother herself doesn't have knights with swords defending her honor. It's 2011, not 1311."

Sam shrugged and looked down. "Guess I wasn't thinking. I just - I'll do anything." Sam played with his chocolate cake. "I think I'm losing her."

Kurt almost reached out and patted Sam's hand. It really was bittersweet, how Sam's love life was crumbling just as Kurt's was looking so promising. He smiled at Sam. "Sam, I'm sure things will turn out fine."

Sam gave Kurt a doutbful look. "Then why is she acting like this?"

Kurt didn't know. The inner workings of Quinn Fabray were not his forte, but Sam's gaze was still latched to him, begging him for sage advice. And on this day, when he'd taken a step in the right direction regarding love, he couldn't leave someone so upset. He scrolled the recesses of his mind - what would _Vogue_ say? No, too intellectual and fashion-forward. What would_ Cosmo_ say?

"Hmmm...maybe she's grown bored. She knows that she has your affection, and some people really love the thrill of the chase." Kurt nodded, relieved at Sam's hopeful gaze. "Maybe you should bring a little of that first-date chase back into your life."

Sam tilted his head. "So, chase her?"

Kurt winked. "Chase her."

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><p>Okay, so he wasn't going to literally chase her this time. They were too old to play, like, tag and Quinn would never go for that. Sam threw himself down on his bed and lay facedown wracking his brain. Nothing. How could he chase her? He turned onto his back and sat up, looking around his room for inspiration. His eyes snagged on a neon flyer, and his smile spread wide.<em> Of course!<em>

He bounced as he pumped a fist in the air, giving a little cheer on Kurt's behalf. He'd felt awful today, all alone like a loser when he technically had a sweetheart. Somehow, Kurt had made the whole situation bearable - even kinda funny. Now, he'd given Sam an awesomely fun idea.

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><p>Quinn stood beside him with her arms folded, glaring at the black entrance before them. Pinball machines activated and the familiar tunes of Pac-man sprang to life as Sam sweated under Quinn's gaze.<p>

"Laser tag?"

Sam put his arm around her waist, trying not to be discouraged as she leaned away.

"Sam-"

"Just try it!" He gave her his best smile. "It'll be fun, promise."

Quinn's eyes narrowed, but she just sighed and clasped Sam's hand. She followed him in.

They played on opposite teams, the only teens among preteen boys. Sam loved it, aiming his laser gun with accuracy. He went after Quinn with relish and found her firing and doing pretty well. She was like a cheerleader assassin! And he was her target...but also, her hunter. The chase was definitely on - and a hit!

At the end of the game, Sam pushed back his hair and beamed at his warrior princess. She had a small smile on her face as she handed her gear back to the arcade clerk.

Once they were outside in his car, Sam bounced in his seat, turning to face her.

"That was amazing!"

Quinn turned to him with a sour look on her face. "Sam, I've borne many things for the sake of this relationship, but that was an unacceptable date. Only junior high schoolers and freaks come to this place."

Sam's excitement evaporated. "But you were great-"

"I excel, Sam," Quinn explained patiently. "In cheerleading, in school, and with the gross exception of Rachel Berry even in glee club. That's who I am, that is why I will be Prom Queen. I'm starting to wonder if you understand what it takes to be my Prom King."

The car was barely parked in front of her house before Quinn hopped out. Sam thought about getting out to walk her in, but the slam of his car door told him not to. He sat there and watched her disappear into her house before slumping in his seat. He'd failed again and he barely understood it. She had been smiling, and really into it! Why would she just play along like that when she never had before?

Sam realized that he was gritting his teeth and gripping the steering wheel hard, and a shock went through him. He let go of the steering wheel slowly as it settled in that this had been the first date that he'd chosen to go on - the first one that was his kind of thing. He shook his head. As he started his car home, he found himself wondering how Kurt would react to this new disaster. An image of Kurt laughing popped into his head, and he found his shock and frustration dissolving into humor. He'd think about this thing with Quinn later. He'd had a good time at laser tag- he wouldn't let this get him down tonight.


	3. Blame It On Sam's Alcohol

**Blame It On Sam's Alcohol.**

Sam was usually a laid back drunk. Even here at Rachel's party, he probably seemed pretty mellow to everyone, pink-cheeked and smiling - but he was actually miserable. He'd thought that all this alcohol might dull his misery, but nope. He was still poor. Not can't-buy-a-comic-book poor, but honest-to-God, out-of-a-home poor. He felt terrible, because when his parents broke the news, his first thought was that this would ruin his life at McKinley. The glory of the football win was fading in McKinley's collective mind, and without that glory, Sam found that he was still one of the freaks who visited arcades and comic book stores.

Sam smiled into his empty cup. He was even more lame than that, since he'd lost Quinn -dumped her, really. But it might as well have been a loss. He didn't know what to do. Football season was over, and he was with Santana now._ God_, Santana. Talk about out of the frying pan, into the fire…she was popular and hot, but she was also a nightmare. He'd been fully conditioned not to speak Na'vi in public and was starting to associate comic book references with pain. He knew he should have trusted his instincts when it came to her, but she seemed to be the jedi-master of cool at McKinley so he didn't really have a choice. Faced with loneliness and homelessness, she was his only lifeline to maintaining his image.

A loud yell went up, and Sam drew a hand over his face. When he could focus again, he spotted Quinn dancing with Finn. After a minute, Finn looked over at him and gave him a half grin. Sam crushed the cup in his hand and looked away - only to groan. Santana walked over to him with that nasty look on her face. Puck was giving Sam a knowing nod as she pushed him back against the couch and straddled him. He let her dig her fingers into his hair and latch her mouth onto his. She'd been making out with him on and off throughout the night, just to show everyone how "into each other" they were. A small part of Sam's brain enjoyed it - he'd seen Quinn watching them a few times and knew she hated it. So why was she hanging around Finn?

Sam's hand dug into Santana's thigh. Finn probably wasn't whispering sweet nothings in her ear in Na'vi or asking her to watch Star Wars for the nth time. God, this boyfriend business just wasn't for him.

"Hey!"

Sam had barely noticed that Santana had ripped her mouth away from his. He shook his head and gave her his full attention, knowing the consequences.

"Retract your claws, hulk - you're ruining the merchandise." She slapped his hand and Sam withdrew it from her thigh. "Now, sit back and enjoy this. I just finished taking a shot and I wants to get my mack on with my boyfriend."

Her evil smile was the last straw - he couldn't take it anymore. As Santana leaned in again, Sam gently rolled her to the side of him and walk-stumbled away as quickly as he could, trying to ignore the first strains of her crying. He dropped his cup on the floor as he headed for Rachel's stairs. He needed some air.

Kurt was not happy as the screen door banged behind him and he found Sam hunched on Rachel's doorstep.

"Is there no place in this world right now where I could be alone?"

Sam winced at the sound of Kurt's voice. Let him, Kurt thought. Let him feel just a tiny fraction of what I am feeling right now. It was only fair, considering that Sam seemed to think that Kurt was his own personal advice column - all of the support Kurt had given Sam over these past few weeks, even letting him live down the Justin Beiber Experience, and Sam hadn't even glanced at him when Rachel's lips met Blaine's! Kurt felt his stomach turn as the horrible sight replayed in his mind. He dropped down beside Sam, a wild look in his red-rimmed eyes. He sniffled. Sam blinked.

" So, did the love of your life just kiss one of your best friends?"

Sam's eyes widened. Kurt was about to spout another snappy line, but he stopped as his eyes met with Sam's. Kurt turned away and looked across the lawn, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry." He gave a thin smile. "I don't know what's wrong with Finn."

"He's a total girlfriend-stealing jerk?"

Kurt frowned. "Among other things."

They sat in silence, and Kurt reached out and put his hand against Sam's shoulder. Maybe he did get it. Maybe, Kurt thought, they were just both doomed to be Julia Roberts in My Best Friend's Wedding. So what if she had been happy in the end? She hadn't gotten the guy she had wanted. He glanced at Sam. He probably wouldn't think of it in those terms, but he'd get it. They said that misery loved company.

Sam shifted under Kurt's hand, and Kurt turned to him. Sam was pouting again. It was a nice pout, Kurt thought absently as Sam threw his arm around Kurt's shoulders. Kurt's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't move.

"I'm with Santana, Kurt, but she's horrible. I gotta get Quinn back." Kurt watched Sam's mouth move with growing anger. Quinn, _again_? "I'm an idiot-"

Kurt pushed Sam, and the inebriated boy swayed away as Kurt sat ram-rod straight beside him.

"Yes," he spat, "yes, you are. An extremely selfish one." Sam looked down, and Kurt looked down his nose at him.

"I don't know what you should do, Sam. Take her for a long walk on the beach, serenade her again - that worked _perfectly_ the first time you did it! Wine and dine her, I don't care! Just don't mind me while my entire love life crashes to the ground!"

Sam seemed to curl into himself as Kurt spoke. Kurt didn't care. He was tired and broken by a kiss and a song - the duet that should have been his, stolen by his best frenemy, no less! The universe conspired against him, and added salt to the wound by putting him here, with this unfeeling cretin who - whose arms were attacking him!

Kurt struggled to move away, but there was no use - Sam had wrestled him into an embrace! Just a friendly hug, really, but Kurt wasn't used to being touchy-feely with guys. Especially not straight guys.

He wasn't used to what came after, either.

"Dude,_ tsap'alute si_."

* * *

><p><em>Na'vi. Great!<em> Kurt blinked rapidly, his frustration giving way to incredulity. Sam blushed under his gaze, wanting to kick himself for the fiftieth time that day. Such a total dork, hugging another dude! Plus, Kurt was right - he was insensitive. He totally used Kurt for advice, never once asking him how he was doing. He knew that Kurt liked Blaine, although the guy seemed to make Kurt do a complete 180. When it came to Blaine, Kurt was nothing like the kid Sam had met in the beginning of the year - the one who marched up to him with an extended hand and a cocksure attitude. The one who informed him that he was neither as passionate nor as talented a performer as he. That kind of bothered him. Weird.

And Sam was sulking over Quinn - well, at least she hadn't kissed another girl. He wondered how he would feel if she had. He'd probably think it was hot - didn't all guys think two girls kissing was hot? Did girls think two guys kissing was hot? Sam tightened his hold on Kurt and thought about kissing another guy. Another guy like...Kurt.

Sam shifted in alarm as his body reacted to that thought. God, it was worse than he thought. He was hopeless. A cool kid would be inside chugging beer and making out with Santana right now, saying "Quinn who?" as he lost his virginity to the smoking hottie who happened to be his girlfriend. Only losers spoke Na'vi and did lame impressions and -

And might have missed the snort of laughter that came out of their commiserating companions.

"I'm not sure what you just said, but I'm pretty sure it's not real."

Sam smiled. "I-it's Na'vi. From Avatar."

Kurt shook his head. He leaned back to fully search Sam's face, and one of Sam's arms dropped, leaving Kurt in the arc of his other arm. Kurt narrowed his eyes as he studied Sam's visage, and Sam squirmed under the attention.

"You are the weirdest jock I have ever met."

Sam winced at the word _weird_, but Kurt grabbed his shoulder as a slow smile spread across his face.

"So different. But," he moved in even closer to Sam to stage whisper, "that's what makes people like you and me unique, I guess."

With that declaration, things once again quieted between them. Neither could explain how or when, but Kurt's head drooped onto Sam's shoulder at some point. Sam was aware that he should probably move or something, because dudes did not let gay dudes cuddle up to them like this even when they were drunk. But he looked up at the moon, and for the first time since his breakup with Quinn, since the bad news from his parents, he felt at peace. He was different, and different didn't seem so bad right now.

Kurt's whole body seemed slumped against his now. Sam looked down at him. His eyes were closed and he was starting to snore. Sam smiled. Not bad at all.

* * *

><p>A few things sunk through Sam's hangover from last night. First, he'd held Kurt under the moonlight, for at least fifteen minutes. No big deal, just friends comforting each other. He closed that subject, not enjoying it's trajectory.<p>

Now the big thing - so many ideas for what to do with Quinn. Not quite as creative as taking her to Color Me Mine, but maybe a traditional romantic "wine and dine" might win her back.

Good idea - he needed wine. But he was poor. He'd started delivering pizzas and his parents insisted that he keep some of the money he brought in, but could he really spend the $30 he'd saved on this? He was really looking forward to new comics...but in light of what had happened at Rachel's party, a dinner with Quinn seemed necessary. He had to be the Prom King she needed. In the dark, it was okay to be weird, but the sun shining in through the motel window told the truth. He couldn't be a freak - he wasn't one. He couldn't be -

Sam clutched his money. He couldn't spend it on wine, but Quinn probably wouldn't want to get really drunk anyway. So he slipped Puck $8 at school.

"I need wine coolers, Puckerman."

Puck looked down at the money and then raised an eyebrow at Sam. "Dude, didn't you learn anything from Berry's party? That's not the way to get smashed-"

"I'm not having a party or trying to get smashed. It's for a date."

Puck had looked like he wanted to say something, but Sam was relieved when he kept his mouth shut and pocketed the money.

* * *

><p>The next evening, Sam stood over one of the table sets on the edge of the motel's pool, satisfied with the elegance of the spread before him. He'd borrowed one of his mom's scented candles (they hadn't been able to sell those to anyone) and dinner- well, dinner was microwaved meals. But it was steak, peas and mashed potatoes, set out on paper plates in the candlelight. Quinn had agreed to meet him. He was sure it was because of his situation, but he didn't care why - as long as she made it. He patted his hair as he spied Quinn walking towards him. He had her here, now all he had to do was get her to see that he was her guy.<p>

He pulled out a chair for her as she approached, and she sat hesitantly. He put a paper napkin in her lap and she gave him an appreciative smile. And now, to impress! He bent down and pulled up a wine cooler. Quinn's face paled and her eyes seemed blank as Sam brandished the forbidden beverage. She surveyed the bottle, slowly pushed his hand away from her and set aside the napkin before standing.

"Is this supposed to be funny?"

Sam's face fell. "What?"

"Wine coolers." She glared at the bottle, shaking her head and giving a small huff. "The same brand."

"What's wrong?"

Quinn rolled her eyes to the heavens, ignoring his confusion. "I knew this was a bad idea."

She brought her hands to her temples and backed away. Sam followed, but one hand shot out to stop him. She turned on her heel and marched away. Sam looked at his efforts, $20 dollars down the drain, and ran his hands through his hair. What was it this time? He blew the candle out as he went into his hotel room, numb as he brought his little brother outside to eat with him. It was a little late for him, but Stevie was wide awake and they couldn't let the food go to waste. He didn't even taste the plastic food going down his throat. He was running out of options, and the worst part of it was that he couldn't even text or talk to Kurt about it.

He'd had to sell his phone.


	4. Sam's NotSo Sexy

**Sam's (Not-So) Sexy.**

Kurt was having the time of his life. The warblers were always practicing, but they also believed in having lots of "teambuilding" time. Tonight's practice was one of those - pizza and movie night. Kurt wasn't too thrilled about the movie they were watching, but he loved that he was cuddling (okay, just sitting very close with) Blaine on one of the couches in the warbler's practice room, commenting on the fashions and foibles of the film.

"Could that cop be any hotter?"

Kurt had been about to reply that yes, he could, when there was a knock at the door. Wes asked Kurt to answer it. Kurt rolled his eyes at the back of Wes's head, but he tapped Blaine on the shoulder and gave Blaine what he hoped was a flirty look before practically skipping to the door. He was looking over his shoulder at Blaine as he opened the door, which justified at least 30% of his surprise when he heard Sam's voice.

"Hi. That'll be seventy-five-"

Kurt watched Sam pale and decided that he was doing the same thing. He crowded Sam out of the doorway - which was difficult on Sam, lugging around six pizzas - and slipped out with him, shutting the door quietly.

"Sam, what are you doing here?"

Sam flushed. "Delivering pizzas."

"But why? This isn't some crazy scheme to try to get my advice, is it?"

Sam made a face and shook his head. "No." Sam ran a hand down his face, a move that Kurt was very familiar with. His dad did that a lot after particularly hard work days...or when something was bothering him. Sam looked away as Kurt's eyes searched for his, and Kurt frowned.

"Just a job, that's all."

Kurt continued watching Sam avoid eye-contact. He reached out and put eighty dollars in Sam's empty hand. He kept his hand on the money as Sam stared at it, the whole world in his eyes. Slowly, Sam's hand curled over the money, over Kurt's. He looked at Kurt head on, eyes hungry and tired. Kurt shivered a little at the look and reached out to put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"What's wrong, Sam?" He asked quietly.

He should be in there, carefree and building the flirty foundation of his romance with Blaine. Instead, he once again found himself listening to Sam's very serious problem. Sam slumped up against a wall, tears in his eyes as he told Kurt about his family's troubles. All the while, Kurt kept his hand in Sam's.

"Is everything alright out here?"

Blaine and David stood in the doorway. Kurt nodded at them, then started.

"I'm sorry - I completely forgot about the pizza!" He managed to give them a smile as Sam turned his head away. "I just, ah, need a minute out here. Do you mind?"

Both warblers carried the pizzas in, and Kurt's attention was back to Sam.

"That's awful, Sam. I'm so sorry."

Sam shrugged, blinking away his tears. "It's okay. Not your fault." Sam looked down and chuckled.

"You didn't kick my family out. You didn't tell me to date Santana. You _did_ tell me to wine and dine Quinn, thought."

Kurt almost rolled his eyes, but of course Sam would want to change the subject. Kurt let him have his pride and flowed smoothly into the new conversation.

"While I was buzzed and half-crazy for no reason."

Sam shrugged and shared his date with Kurt, too. Kurt quietly told him the details of Quinn's folly last year, and Sam groaned. Kurt squeezed Sam's hand and couldn't even think of anything to say. There really wasn't anything he _could_ say to this. He felt terrible. Sam had been in his predicament even before Rachel's party, and Kurt had yelled at him for being insensitive.

"You're very brave," Kurt managed. "and a little crazy. The lengths that you've gone to get back Quinn are admirable."

Sam acknowledged Kurt, some tiny happiness showing in his eyes.

"But she obviously hasn't gotten the message, Sam. And Santana was right, she cheated on you. Maybe you really should let it go. Give her some space." Kurt frowned. "Not literally. Maybe she'll come back to you. That's what you'd like, isn't it?"

Sam looked down at their clasped hands, and as he looked into Kurt's eyes, Kurt could have sworn that m was answering his rhetorical question with uncertainty. Strange, but Kurt squeezed Sam's hand again and let go, leaving the money in his hand. Sam went to get change, but Kurt stopped him.

"Don't worry about it, please." He waited for Sam to nod, and then he smiled.

"Good. The warblers definitely aren't hurting for money. And let me know if you need anything, Sam."

He patted Sam on the shoulder before going back to the festivities. Kurt was in a very calm mood, and felt a bit jarred as he joined Blaine on the couch again. Blaine bit into his slice and contemplated his far-away friend.

"Kurt? Was Sam our delivery guy?"

"Mmhmm," Kurt murmured.

"What took you so long?"

For the first time since Valentine's Day, Kurt was annoyed with Blaine. It didn't make sense; it wasn't Blaine's fault. He'd just had a moment with a friend, and Blaine didn't know that. Still, Kurt was hard pressed to answer Blaine's inquiry. He just shrugged and got up to get a slice of pizza.


	5. Sam's Original Song

**Note:** _Just wanted to take the time to thank those who are reading - hope you're enjoying it. Also, there's a Santana "trouty mouth" joke in here that I feel like I've stolen from someone else's fic. If I did, it was wholly unintentional. Thanks._

**Sam's Original Song. **

_Trouty mouth._ Catchy, jazzy, it replayed in his mind and made him grit his teeth - and suck in his lips - as Sam sat outside of his family's motel room. His fingers flexed on both hands, curling into claws. He'd taken Kurt's advice and put Quinn behind him, but Santana was rude and mean, and he used to be pretty scared of her. Now, he didn't cower in fear, but he didn't want to fight, either. He had to find a way to make this thing with her work without wanting to pull his hair out. He needed this relationship almost more than he'd needed the one with Quinn.

Sam shook his head and looked up at the stars. It was only like nine o'clock. He would just go to sleep, but his sleep had been filled with really freakish dreams lately. Like, dreams no dude should ever have. He closed his eyes to shut out even the thought of these illusions, but he still heard that familiar high-pitched humming in his ear, calling him to confess. He reached up to close his hands over his ears, but the humming got louder and Sam realized that it was real.

He opened his eyes and had to press his lips together to keep from smiling full on as Kurt walked up to him. As always, he was carrying a box of stuff. Maybe he should have let himself smile. Kurt had been a huge help since he found out about Sam's situation, and Sam was grateful. For the clothes, for the advice, for the talks...there'd been a lot of talks.

"Hey!" He beamed at Sam as he came to a halt, then looked at his door. "I'm sorry this is late - I was a little distracted."

"It's cool," Sam said, standing to take the box from him.

Kurt held onto it, biting his lower lip and looking extremely chipper for this late at night. Sam even noticed that his eyes seemed shinier than most nights, like they belonged up in the sky with the other stars. The sappy thought made him give a silent groan.

"Ask me why!" Kurt insisted, voice still spritely.

"OK." Sam narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Blaine likes me!"

At Kurt's announcement (more like squawk, actually), Sam's mouth dropped open. He knew the right reaction to give. He should have given Kurt a high five...or maybe a hug or something? No, no hugs. No physical contact. He managed to snap his jaw shut and nod, taking the box from Kurt. He realized that Kurt was waiting for something more, so he let a half-hearted smile make a brief appearance on his face.

"Uhh...sounds sweet."

"I know! I feel like Cinderella."

Sam lifted an eyebrow at his friend, then dropped his head to look into the box.

"Anything I can actually wear in here?"

Kurt gave him a droll look, but a smile crept onto his face. This teasing was a part of their normal routine. Sam placed the box on the motel porch, and Kurt rummaged through it to pull out a star-studded, red, white and blue tank top. He held it out before him with a flourish.

"This is the_ pièce de résistance_!"

Sam did a double take. "This is like Captain America on steroids."

"Patriot chic," Kurt amended, holding it up against Sam and admiring the picture.

Sam shook his head as Kurt laughed. This time, Sam doesn't hold back his smile. Their eyes met, and Sam's heart jumped between them. He felt his face growing warm, and he was so happy that Kurt's hand was clasped over his shoulder.

He probably couldn't feel the quick drumming in Sam's chest. Didn't notice that Sam was leaning into him just a little, getting closer to the interesting crinkles beside Kurt's eyes, closer to the stars...

Kurt reared back, crinkles gone and eyes wide, and Sam's heart began to slow. They were standing outside of his motel room, his family mere feet away as they stood under the stars, but this wasn't one of Sam's dreams. Sam shrugged Kurt's hands off of his shoulders as Kurt's mouth opened.

"He kissed me," Kurt blurted, snatching the tank top down. "Blaine did."

Sam nodded, then crouched next to the box. He picked up a jacket with some kind of flower pattern on it and a corner of his mouth hitched up. It was an awesome jacket, kind of like a short trenchcoat -totally Kurt. Kurt's feet shuffled in the silence, and Sam looked up. His smile faded .

"You probably wanna go, then," Sam said. He couldn't help adding, "wouldn't want to keep you away from your Prince Charming."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but giggled. "Well, he _is_ that."

"What's it like?"

"What?"

"Being with someone you love?"

Kurt was already flustered over their odd little moment, and Sam's question didn't make it any better. Didn't Sam know what it was like? Kurt felt triumphant. Today, his dreams had come true. He was finally beginning a real love with Blaine! It was finally his turn.

"Cinderella, remember?"

Sam frowned, and Kurt gave a long suffering sigh. The Sams of the world were sometimes utterly hopeless - once again, he had to translate something perfectly normal into Sam speak. "Like I finally fit in. Like there's something here for me."

Kurt was struck by Sam's expression. The look was almost similar to the one on Blaine's face mere hours before, when he'd finally admitted that he liked Kurt, too. _Ha._ Funny that Kurt's voice was just as lost right now, his stomach fluttering just as it had in that moment. Very funny. Then Sam looked away, and it all disappeared. Maybe it hadn't even happened.

"What about your dad? Or your friends? We don't make you feel like that?"

Sam's gaze was turned on him again, and he squirmed under it. "Of course you do. It's just...different."

Sam shrugged, and Kurt felt the unnatural need to hug him. It was Sam, but Kurt still didn't think it would be the best idea.

"Well, that must be nice. Santana's driving me nuts. Isn't she ever nice to anyone?"

"She's nic-_er_ to Brittany." Kurt thought. "And sometimes Puck."

Sam's thunderstruck face was amusing. "They used to ride the hobby horse with each other waaay back when. I guess there is something to be said about the bad boys."

Kurt wished he could snatch his words back when he saw the concentrated, determined look on Sam's face._ Oh, dear_. What was the lovelorn sweetheart about to embark upon now?

* * *

><p>Sam watched Puck lift weights. He didn't just lift them - he stood before the mirror making ugly, intimidating faces. And one of his eyebrows was perpetually cocked, challenging himself. He looked smug, confident - totally into himself, as any bad boy should be. Sam stood beside him and put extra weight on his bells for motivation. He stuck his tongue out just so to mimic Puck's, cocked an eyebrow and tried to conjure smug. <em>I am Johnny Storm, Tony Stark...<em>

He grunted when Puck grunted - or at least tried to - until Puck dropped his weights, giving Sam a weirded-out look. Sam continued working out, grunting a greeting at Puck. Puck frowned and walked slowly toward the showers.

In Glee Club, Sam listened in as Puck spoke to Artie.

"I'm totally getting into those big panties. I'll buy her a muffin basket, take her out and bam! Struck by Puckzilla's lightning. We're already dating."

Artie just stared at Puck. "Wow. I did not want to hear_ any_ of that."

"Dude, don't insult my woman. She's real special. I could pull any chick in this whole school easy - but I want her. And I'm halfway there."

Sam's cheeks flushed. His dad would not approve, but maybe Santana liked that kind of attitude in a guy.

So - aggressive, confident, into himself, attitude. Sam knew he was well equipped to walk into McKinley the next day with the Puckerman method.

* * *

><p>Santana was by her locker talking to Brittany when he approached. He smoothly (if he did say so himself) inserted himself between them, leaning his crooked elbow against her locker with a cocky grin and sexy, cocked eyebrow.<p>

"So, what's up, hot-"

But his rehearsed line was ruined when Santana slammed her books against his arm, knocking it off of her locker and sending him into Brittany, who steadied him. Sam grabbed his aching and scratched elbow, glowering at her. She raised her books again, and he backed further into Brittany.

"You want more of this? No? Then maybe you should let Brittany here tell you my locker policy, _sweetie_. That's the best way to avoid injury."

Sam turned to Brittany. She gave him an apologetic smile.

"Santana only lets cool people lean against her locker. That's me -" Brittany started to count on her fingers, got confused and stopped. "And Puck. Anyone else who tries it gets hurt - and she always finds out about it."

"How?"

Brittany shrugged. "I tell her. Or she threatens Jacob. But I know Santana didn't like doing that to you - it's just that it's a policy."

"_Her_ policy."

"Yeah." Brittany nodded. "She _has_ to hit you. She told me. I'm just glad I don't have a locker policy."

With that, she skipped off to class, leaving Sam scarred and confused.

He tried again later that day as they walked to Glee practice. Santana let him put his arm around her. He even got away with nuzzling her temple as other students walked by - so far, so good.

"You're so hot. I can't wait to tap this."

He squeezed her shoulder. He couldn't bring himself to actually tap her butt - he did value his life. She shrugged out of his hold and stood before him, propping a hand in the middle of his chest.

"Look, this relationship works much better when your mouth is shut. Plus those large lips of yours are sucking in all the good air - I can hardly breathe." She pretended to gag and wheeze. "See? So let's just make it to Glee Club before I die. And if you ever, ever try to 'tap this' or violate my locker policy without permission, I will violate you. Get it, whorelips?"

Sam nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. They both made it to the choir room alive. As Sam sat down, Puck plopped down beside him.

"Dude, you like dudes, that's your thing. And I know I'm pretty hot, but people are starting to talk about your crush on me and that's _not _cool. Tone it down. I don't want talk reaching Zizes' ears."

Sam wondered if Mr. Schue would protest if he just got up and went home. People were talking about him. Liking dudes_. If only they knew._


	6. Sam's Prom Queen

**Sam's Prom Queen. **

Needless to say, Sam and Santana were finito. Just like that, his bid to be on top of the McKinley High School heap was through. But Sam wasn't nearly as upset as he should be about that. The only thing bringing him down was how happy Kurt was - well, no, not that. He liked seeing Kurt happy. The problem was, he barely_ saw_ Kurt anymore. They didn't need clothes between them now - for one, Finn's clothes suited Sam much better. The Broaden Sam's Fashion Horizons Cause (as Kurt called it) had failed. Sure, Kurt stopped by once in a while since they were friends, but it was noticeably less since that stupid night when Blaine finally realized what everyone else had already known. Sam had managed to stop sitting outside of his hotel room listening for Kurt's familiar, jaunty footsteps on the gravel, but it still bothered him.

The last time he'd seen Kurt, dude had fluttered at him, babbling about persuading Blaine to go to McKinley's prom. Sam had barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Everything out of Kurt's mouth these days was about Blaine - it made his stomach roll. And _persuading_? Kurt wouldn't have had to ask him twice. Sam had kept all of this to himself as Kurt went on, finally interrupting him when he couldn't take it anymore. He'd told Kurt who was taking him to prom.

"That's amazing, Sam! Now, I know you'll treat my girls well," he'd said,"but I want you to be especially good to Mercedes at prom. All she's ever wanted for prom is for some guy to tell her she looks beautiful and ask her to dance. Make her dreams come true."

It seemed like Kurt wanted to make everybody's dreams come true lately. It made Sam grit his teeth, but Sam had done as he was told. Even now, after fulfilling Mercedes' dream, he sat by her side at their table. She was speaking to him, and he didn't really know what she was saying.

After his fifth non-response, Mercedes huffed.

"Alright, spill."

Sam turned to Mercedes and clutched her hand. He kissed it, and she lifted her eyebrow at him.

"And_ please_ don't try to play me. I know that look on your face - I had the same look on mine last year." She shook her head. "I thought Kurt was crazy."

"What?"

"He told me you might be g-"

"I'm_ not_ gay," Sam mumbled for her ears only.

"Oh. Is _that_ why you've been looking at Kurt all night?"

Sam really looked at Mercedes now. She hit him with a knowing glance, and Sam dropped his head into his hands. Mercedes rubbed his back and leaned towards him with a soft smile on her face.

"You gonna come out now or do I have to drag you?"

It wasn't funny to him at all, but he couldn't stop the little smile from interrupting his pouting. He didn't need to be dragged out. He was not gay - he really had cared for Quinn. Wanted her. Yeah, he was a dork, okay? A total and complete geek. He could admit it now. But even he wouldn't have gone to the extremes he had just for popularity's sake. So that made him, _what_?

"Bi," he said softly, exploring the new descriptor on his tongue. Mercedes leaned in even closer, and he said it again, stronger this time. She nodded, and Sam was happy that the conversation seemed to stop there. He didn't really want to get into it right now.

"So..are you gonna dance with him?"

Sam groaned. "What? No."

Mercedes rolled her eyes at him, then grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. He half-heartedly resisted as she drew him onto the dance gloor, closer and closer to the crowned Kurt and Blaine. They were dancing in an embrace, but Kurt pulled away as he saw Mercedes and Sam drawing near. He gave Mercedes a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and suddenly they were all dancing in a circle. The important part was that he was facing Kurt. Still high of of his prom victory, Kurt shimmied to the music and Sam imagined that Kurt's eyes took on a flirty tone as he twirled. It was almost like they were at prom together – the only two people on the dance floor.

"This is awesome!" Sam leaned into Kurt as he spoke. _You're awesome._

"Surprisingly, yes!" Kurt beamed. "I'm the queen, I'm having fun and dancing with three of my favorite people!"

Sam was an awful dancer, and he knew it. He had a few moves that he was proud of and the rest, he gave it his best shot. In that instant, he hopped onto his tip toes and threw a fist in the air. He danced like there was no one there to laugh at the perpetual new kid. His heart danced along in a similar fashion, embracing his excitement at being called one of Kurt's favorite people. Happy that he was important to the boy that he had come to love.

Kurt twirled again, and Sam almost grabbed his hand to turn him. Then, Blaine's arm came out of nowhere and he was the one controlling Kurt's twirl, the recipient of Kurt's radiance. Sam stepped forward, mouth open to protest until Mercedes swept him up and reminded him of reality. Kurt was with this smooth performer, someone who you just looked at and knew was smart. Under the light of the disco ball, both boys' dark hair gleamed. They were probably dressed really cool, too. Sam touched his own bolo tie and dyed hair, happy heart shriveling. Mercedes squeezed his middle and he hid his hurt behind a small smile. She patted his shoulder as a slow song began, and he wrapped his arms around her, taking comfort from her embrace.

"Don't worry, Sam," she cooed. "You made my dreams come true tonight. Now, I'm not gonna do anything to hurt Kurt – he's been through a lot and he deserves to be happy. He's happy with Blaine."

Sam nodded, resigned. The words stung, but they were true. Even now, Kurt swayed in Blaine's arms with the widest smile on his face.

"But that don't mean I won't do what I can to put you in a position to make yours come true one day." Sam smiled down at her, awed and touched. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

* * *

><p>Kurt Hummel, prom queen. Well, there were worse titles. And tonight had been far from the worst. He'd slow danced with his boyfriend multiple times, and it'd been spectacular. Except that last time – he'd been all eyes on Sam and Mercedes. At first, he thought it was odd that they were slow dancing together. It wasn't as if they'd ever said two words to one another before, and suddenly they were laughing and sharing smiles...well, it was always strange when one's good friends started dating. That's how he explained away his vaguely unsettled feelings about them. Their last dance had seemed sad – Sam looking bereft somehow, even as Mercedes tried to comfort him. It had put a small damper on Kurt's own night, and he spent the last dance watching the couple circle slowly. He loved Mercedes, but she had always been a blunt person. <em>Had she said something to him? Had something happened with his family?<em> It barely registered when Blaine gave him a sneaky peck in the semi-darkness, and Kurt was too busy contemplating Sam's face to notice Blaine's curious frown.

Now Kurt and his beau walked to Kurt's car hand in hand, an extra skip in Kurt's step. "What a fantastic night."

"I agree," Blaine said. "No one got hurt. Although I hadn't expected my song choice to be quite so accurate."

Kurt tilted his head at Blaine in confusion. "How so?"

One of Blaine's eyebrows hiked on his face, and Kurt couldn't help thinking that it was more than due for a trim. "It's probably nothing. Just feeling a bit territorial, I guess. Are you sure Sam's straight?"

Kurt's face contorted in disbelief as they stopped beside his car. Okay, there had been a time when he'd questioned Sam himself, but this was insane. He must have drove off of the deep end in the past few weeks. First Rachel, then the entire Glee Club and now _his own boyfriend_! He'd thought Blaine was above all of that.

"Certain as the sun rises in the east," Kurt said, his feathers clearly ruffled. He turned from Blaine and got into his truck, starting the car as Blaine hopped into the passenger seat.

"It's just...he was looking at you, almost all night."

_Really?_ Kurt tamped down the excitement that had bubbled up in him, eyes focused on the road as he drove. "You're crazy."

"I'm not. And you spent our last dance watching his last dance."

Kurt sighed. "I was concerned, Blaine. He looked upset, and he is a friend."

"Artie was missing all night and you barely noticed!"

Kurt's hands tightened on the wheel. "You know it's different, Blaine." Blaine crossed his arms and studied Kurt as he drove. "How so?"

_How so?_ How could Blaine turn his own question on him? Kurt glanced at Blaine from the corner of his eye, shocked at how hard it was for him to answer that question. Because he knew things about Sam before others knew them. Because Sam confided in him, trusted him. They had shared clothes! They had shared more than clothes. Yet he couldn't articulate any of this to Blaine, and guilt crept up his spine as he tried.

This was ridiculous – he had _nothing_ to feel guilty about. _But what if Blaine thought..._ Kurt stopped the car with a jerk. He turned to Blaine with his arms folded. "Do you think I'm cheating on you? With a _straight_ boy?"

Blaine sighed at Kurt's deceptively soft tone. "No. It just seems like Sam was being a little friendlier than necessary."

"He always is," Kurt snapped. "That's just Sam." Then something occurred to Kurt, and a giant smile spread across his face. "Are you jealous, Blaine Warbler?"

Blaine scoffed, and Kurt laughed. "That's cute."

"Hey! That's my line," Blaine quipped as Kurt took his hands. "Blaine, you're my boyfriend. I am honored that you came to prom with me, it was very brave. And trust me. I don't want anyone else."

He leaned in to kiss Blaine. It should have been a magical kiss to end a magical night, but Kurt felt little more than comfort as the kiss came to an end. He hid his dismay behind a bright smile and started his truck up again, driving them home. And his double helping of guilt? Well, that was soon forgotten beneath their light hearted account of the night's events.


	7. Sam's New York New York

_**Note: **From the Prom til the end is not beta'd so please be kind. Hope you still like it, anyway!_

**Sam's New York, New York**

The Coffee Bean was full and bright, and Kurt should have been feeling empty and dark. Pouting, at the very least. Only two days separated him from pretty much losing his boyfriend for the summer. Blaine would be working at Six Flags. Maybe he should be crying. But he found his eyes wandering over the other customers, and glancing at his cell phone without even a hint of moisture in his eye. He was a little shocked when Blaine grabbed his hand.

"Kurt? Have you heard a word I've said?"

Kurt blinked at Blaine. "What? Yes."

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed and he sipped his medium drip. "Oh. Good. I know baseball isn't your thing-"

"It isn't." Kurt beamed. "But I'm learning the basics. Sam thinks I've got a great arm! I told him it takes a strong one to pick up the latest and boldest fashions."

Kurt chuckled at his own joke, and Blaine nodded. Kurt frowned as Blaine gave him a look he didn't like. The warbler looked down at his drink and gave a huge sigh.

"Kurt, I'm going to miss you. So much." The pained look on Blaine's face was amusing, but Kurt knew he was being serious. He squeezed Blaine's hand. "I'll miss you, too."

"I love you."

Kurt's eyes widened and he swallowed his sip of tea hard. _I love you._ Just a few months ago, those words would have sent Kurt into a new stratosphere of happiness. If he could expand on his Cinderella analogy: if regionals was the ball then this moment, right here at the Coffee Bean, would be the happily ever after. His heart would be beating out of his chest, he'd be speechless. Maybe he would be crying. It would be like winning a Tony and a CDFA Fashion Award all at once. This was it...this _should_ be it. But his mind was blank, and the lack of reaction had him searching inside for a reason.

"Mmm. I love you, too," he said absently. The right response.

"But I can't do this anymore. Not when you're so obviously in love with Sam."

Blaine now had Kurt's full attention. His eyes couldn't get wider if they tried, and his mouth gaped open into a loud laugh. Blaine frowned at him and Kurt managed to stifle himself. He supposed he did talk about Sam a lot. Sam was one of his friends. One of his best friends, lately. He couldn't help relaying to Blaine all of Sam's little funny foibles. And however misguided, his determination was admirable. Sam was just...silly, he guessed. Hilarious. Sweet. He looked forward to hanging out with him and getting texts asking him to_ pls rpsnd_. He was charmed by Sam's artlessness, the way he thought his "Travolta moves" were the coolest thing in the world, and he wanted to share that with Blaine. It wasn't a crime, and they'd been over this a million times before!

"I have no idea what you're talking about right now. I don't like Sam." Kurt rolled his eyes. "I _do_ like Sam, but you. Are. My. _Boyfriend_. Sam. Is. _Straight_. Am I coming in clear?"

"Crystal," Blaine said, voice calm with resignation. "I love you, so I think I know you by now. You get really excited when you talk about him. You always smile or chuckle when you get a text from him. You _laugh out loud_. Can you even remember the last time I made you laugh out loud?"

Kurt could not, and Blaine sighed again. "Look, Kurt, maybe you aren't ready to admit it to yourself. I understand – I've been in your position before. Just try to acknowledge your feelings for him and deal with them before you get yourself hurt."

Kurt snatched his hands away from Blaine and gaped at his boyfriend – the same boy he'd been pining over all year, whom he'd been wishing for with all his might. "You can't be breaking up with me over a hunch," he whispered.

"I am, because I'm right. I remember when I first realized I loved you. You haven't looked at me that way for a long time. But the way you look just _talking_ about Sam-"

Kurt shook his head. "Are you upset because we'll be separated for most of the summer? Because you know that we have plenty of ways to keep in contact. I can come to Six Flags. You don't have to do this."

Blaine reached for his hand again, and Kurt let him take it, hoping beyond hope that it would make him see reason again. He felt all that he'd worked for this year slipping away.

"I'm not really good at goodbyes." Blaine squeezed his hand. "Just – I hope you have a wonderful summer, Kurt. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always available."

They stood. They hugged. Blaine gathered his things and left the shop. Kurt watched him go and knew he was having some kind of nightmare. Blaine had left him. Over Sam. Kurt wanted to laugh and cry at once. Adorable, funny, surprisingly smart and cute (_hey, he wasn't blind_) Sam. Who was straight.

Kurt sipped his drink, colder than it seemed only a few minutes ago. His first love affair, over. The Coffee Bean door jingled as it closed, and Kurt took a deep breath. He was alone again. He took another sip, feeling his coffee slide down his throat. He was hurt, but he wasn't crying. He was alone, but he wasn't broken. Kurt rolled his shoulders. It could have been worse. He hadn't been cheated on. And, he thought, incredibly with a bark of laughter, there would be no Beiber experiences or misinformed dinners. He reached for his iPhone and his fingers flew. He had to tell Sam.

* * *

><p>"This is it!"<p>

Sam looked from Mercedes to Tina to Rachel and that little niggle in his stomach questioned his judgement in coming to Mercedes' house. "Kurt Hummel is back on the market and ready to be swept off his feet."

Sam smiled. They'd all received the news a few days ago, but he'd been first – and happiest. Rachel was going to miss the challenging warbler's ability to match her vocally, but otherwise Mercedes had persuaded her to team get-Sam-with-Kurt.

"I must admit that I'm shocked by Kurt's lack of emotion towards the break up. Are we sure that now is the right time for Sam to declare himself?"

"Yeah. He could be hiding it all in. And we don't want Sam to be the rebound."

Rachel nodded at Tina's input, and Sam shifted nervously on the bed. Mercedes waved their worries away.

"He's fine. We hung out yesterday and he laughed about it. Homeboy is completely over it. They only thing he isn't over is that they broke up because of Sam. That was all he wanted to talk about – Sam, Sam, Sam. Now is _very_ right. We just need to figure out how to get him to realize that Sam's the one."

They studied Sam like a bug under a microscope. Sam began to sweat under the force of all their concentrated estrogen.

"Say it in song?" Tina suggested.

Mercedes shook her head. "Overdone."

"And risky, considering Sam's limited knowledge of Broadway and Jazz standards. We wouldn't want his musical declaration to be wasted on a pop song." Rachel put one finger up in the air, commanding everyone's attention. "I propose gifts. On a budget, of course. There has to be some designer wear that would fascinate Kurt at the local good will-"

"Yes! That's it!" Mercedes clasped Rachel's hand, a huge grin on her face. Rachel beamed.

"Well, I do tend to-"

"No, not gifts! _Fashion_!"

The two girls' eyes met and took on a conspiratorial glint. "Yes! One of the first and best ways to interest someone you like is to show an interest in something they enjoy. We need to turn Sam into a fashion plate!"

Sam didn't like the sound of this idea as much as the three girls nodding before him.

"I already have some of his clothes. They're not very flashy-"

"No. You need to make a big statement." Rachel threw her hands out. "Bold, unafraid, conspicuous – like a peacock, effortlessly drawing in the gaze of its chosen mate."

"I could save him from something – like a superhero." Sam's earnest suggestion was met with three different versions of side-eye. After that, he wisely stayed silent until Mercedes addressed him.

"So, he didn't give you _anything_ crazy?"

Sam sighed. "Well, just this one shirt..."


	8. Sam's Summer Ending

Note: Thanks to all who read - I really appreciate it, and hope you enjoyed the story.

**Sam's Summer Ending**

This...was not his style, but both Mercedes and Tina assured him that Kurt would think it was awesome. Still, he was taking his time getting to the Hummels' front door. They were hosting a 4th of July party, and all had agreed that "the outfit" was perfect for this event. Sam took a deep breath before he rang the doorbell. "For Kurt."

* * *

><p>Kurt stood by the fence with Rachel, holding a sparkler in one hand and a special (non-alcoholic, of course) mixed beverage courtesy of himself. Everything was going well at their fourth extravaganza. He checked out his dad to make sure he wasn't sneaking more burgers or steaks than he needed – but then he realized that Carole was on that one. He was still getting used to someone else looking after his father.<p>

He and Rachel were arguing the merits of going to college versus jumping right into professional auditioning when Rachel's head turned sharply to his back door and one small hand covered her mouth. Others seemed to be in a state as well – Finn looked pale. Artie, Puck and Mike were laughing. The only reason Santana wasn't sniping was because Brittany's hand covered her mouth. Kurt swiveled his head to look at this late guest, and his mouth dropped open.

Naturally, he recognized the expense of craftsmanship of the pieces. He'd been eyeing that bright red feathered bolero jacket for weeks now, and the tank top beneath it was his Urban Outfitters USA tank top – _still_ patriotic chic. The pants that clung to Sam's lower body were hundreds of dollars, as were the buckled boots. Kurt licked his lips. Those boots were divine – white leather with black buckles and loops. He wondered if he and Sam wore the same shoe size as Sam walked stiffly towards him.

"Hey." Kurt watched without word as Sam tried in vain to put his hands in his pants' pockets. He gave up, blushing, and waved a hand over his outfit as Rachel backed away with a suspiciously pleased grin on her face. In fact, Tina and Mercedes seemed to be wearing the same grin. "What do you think?"

Kurt's eyelids fluttered. Sam was looking at him with that face. Tell me I did good, it said. Tell me you like it. Tell me you like me. Please. He imagined that that face had once belonged to Quinn. Maybe even Santana. He thought it was currently Mercedes', but with the grin on his girl's face, maybe not. It was doing odd things to his own circulatory system. And Sam's outfit was doing equally odd things to his eyes.

"You look like a fashion abomination." Sam's face fell. "My advice? Never try to mix designers if you're a beginner. And never let Mercedes dress you." Kurt put a hand on Sam's bicep so that he'd look him in the eye. "What ever possessed you to dress like this?"

Sam looked at everyone else, including Kurt's parents. He gulped and continued to look helpless. Kurt knew he was looking for the right thing to say, and he sighed.

"Sam, I know I've given you a lot of advice and you're probably tired of hearing it, but if breaking up with Blaine has taught me anything, it's that all you can do is be yourself. You're wonderful. We all know that – well, maybe not all, but a lot of us do. You don't need to change who you are to get someone's attention. I'm going to assume that this change in fashion has something to do with me. So what is it this time? Are you trying to cheer me up? Make me laugh? What's going on?"

_You're wonderful._ Sam latched onto those words, a glimmer of hope rising from his sorrow and humiliation. _Be yourself_. In front of everyone? He looked at them all. Quinn, hair newly shorn, sitting quietly beside Lauren. He never would have thought they'd be friends in a million years, but Quinn had turned a new leaf since New York. He had to admit that he liked the new Quinn better – or perhaps this had been the real Quinn all along. And Santana. Sam hadn't known, but she and Brittany were now officially together. Santana was still a monster, but a lot tamer and much happier. He was happy for both of them, and he wanted to achieve what they both had. The guys would probably freak out. Mike was one of his best friends in the club, and his relationship with Finn was still healing – he didn't want to jeopardize that. But they'd all stood up for Kurt. They might tease him, but he was a part of their group and they wouldn't turn their backs on him for being what he was.

Sam saw that he still didn't quite fit in. Maybe he never would. But he could be happy – with comic books and laser tag and glee club. With Kurt.

He reached for Kurt's hands, careful of the sparkler that he held. Rachel took away Kurt's drink, giving both boys a thumbs up as she stepped back and watched everything unfold.

"Yeah, I look ridiculous. I only dressed up like this because Mercedes thought you might notice me if I dressed the way you like."

Kurt frowned. "Notice you? Sam-"  
>"Like me," Sam corrected. "She thought you might like me. Because I really like you. As more than a friend."<p>

Kurt was once again gaping, eyes wide. "But-" Sam shrugged. "Can we talk about all that later? I'll explain, I promise. Right now, I just want to know if you'd go out with me." Kurt couldn't respond. He thought he ought to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn't daydreaming. He'd been trying to suppress these kinds of thoughts ever since he and Blaine broke up and he started seeing his own reactions to Sam. Blaine had been right. A text or call from Sam sent Kurt's entire being dancing. When they hung out, Kurt would catch himself flirting and giving Sam those adoring glances that he used to give Finn and Blaine. He didn't want to go through this again.

"I don't know, Sam."

"So, you don't like me?" Sam's mouth drooped, and he almost let go of Kurt's hands. Kurt gripped his, shaking his head.

"No! Of course I like you. We're friends."

"But...you're not attracted to me or something?"

"Oh, no." Kurt glanced at his dad and the rest of the crowd, lowering his voice to murmur, "you know I'm attracted to you. You're very attractive."

Sam gave his adorable half smile that sent Kurt's heart rate through the roof. "This is – I just need to get used to this."

Sam's smile widened. It wasn't a no. He stepped closer to Kurt, leaning in with his eyes decidedly on Kurt's mouth.

"Anything I can do to speed up the process?" Kurt's lips parted. He drifted closer, toe to toe with Sam and _so very near_ Sam's perfect grin...but then Burt cleared his throat, and Kurt remembered that they had an audience. He shook his head and hopped back, looking around the yard.

"I'm not-"

Burt's arms were crossed, and he was frowning in confusion as Carole rubbed his back. Artie was nodding, a knowing smile on his face, and he and Puck shared a high five. Rachel, Mercedes and Tina were huddled together, pride glowing in all of their smiles- three mother hens.

Kurt flushed and dragged Sam to the side of the house, away from everyone. He heard the familiar footsteps of his father coming after him, but they stopped. He thanked Carole for existing before turning his focus back to Sam. "I'm not a fan of PDA."

"Got it. I'll remember." Sam searched his face. "So...can I kiss you now?"

Kurt fidgeted, nodding. Sam took him by the shoulders to steady him, and all the sounds of the summer night heightened as Sam's lips came forward to kiss him. Then they all faded away. Kurt smiled against Sam's lips, and he thought, maybe I'm already used to this. He pressed himself forward, letting the kiss deepen. There was plenty of time for them to find out.

THE END.


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